Not Allowed To Cry
by Cristofle
Summary: Ficlet from Marissa's POV in a missing scene of The Ex Factor


**Not Allowed To Cry**

_A/N: This is just a little angst ficlet; it's more or lessa missing scene between Marissa and Ryan's fight in The Ex Factor and his later apology. Marissa reflects while hiding in Alex's bathroom. Ryan's POV is a companion piece; "One More Loss"._

Marissa was barely able to make her way into Alex's bathroom and lock the door behind her before she knelt in front of the toilet and threw up.

It wasn't like this was unfamiliar territory for her. She'd spent a good portion of her nights over the summer like this, when she'd hit the vodka a little too hard and a little too early.

She wasn't drunk now.

In her mind, she wasn't even here now. She was exactly where she'd been less than an hour before, rooted to the ground, helpless to move or even speak as the boy she loved ripped her apart. His words were still crystal clear in her head, as if he were standing in front of her now repeating them to her over and over and over. _Feel good to see someone else mess up for a change…it always does with you…you want to mess up your own life fine…you're doing a pretty good job of it if you ask me…**spentalllastyeardraggingmedown**_

Marissa closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool porcelain of the toilet. Why was this hitting her so hard? Hadn't she said the same thing to herself when she lost him? She wasn't good enough for him. She never had been and she never would be. He'd put up with enough from her and now he'd found a nice, normal girl like he should have when he first came to Newport. She knew all this. She'd accepted it a long time ago. Why weren't his words at least sinking in by now? Why did they hit her with the same shock, pain, and humiliation they had when he'd first said them every time she repeated the argument in her head?

Tears filled Marissa's eyes; she roughly rubbed her arm over her face. She couldn't let herself cry, not when she was still standing in front of Ryan in her mind. All she'd had as she stood there lifeless and frozen as a statue while he railed at her was the mantra in her head. _Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry. _She'd stared into his beautiful blue eyes up to a certain point, the eyes she'd seen express everything from love and adoration to pain, fury and betrayal. She'd seen nothing but disgust, rage, and icy cold distance in those eyes tonight and when the pain of it almost doubled her over, she'd been forced to look away. The only thing she could do was force herself not to cry so Ryan wouldn't see her as even more pathetic and desperate as than he apparently already did.

The selfish part of her- which she was able to admit more easily now was considerable- had wanted to rail at him too. _Don't you realize how much I still love you? Don't you know you're killing me? Don't you know you could say anything to me and it wouldn't change how I feel about you? Don't you realize you have more power to hurt me than anyone else? Don't you know to be careful with that kind of power? _And yet she knew she didn't have the right to say any of those things. He was no longer her boyfriend; he no longer had any obligation to be concerned with whether or not he was hurting her feelings if he was angry at her. If she couldn't let go, that wasn't his issue.

She rubbed tiredly at her forehead as she positioned herself to sit leaning against the wall. How was this going to work now? How was she supposed to face him at school? It had been exhausting enough pretending it didn't affect her that he was dating her stepsister (however distant a connection that might be). Was she supposed to pretend she wasn't humiliated as well? Was she supposed to see him with his words ringing in her head and smile like nothing happened? Was she supposed to go on pretending to be his friend when he apparently really didn't want her as one? And then there was Seth. How was she supposed to look at him after tonight? Seth and Summer were drifting further and further away from each other and Ryan and Summer had never been close. Would this be the final blow to the once seemingly inseparable foursome?

Marissa closed her eyes as she rested her head back against the wall. Ryan's words were still burning straight through her, burning the way vodka did as it went down her throat. Somewhat ridiculously, she waited for that blessed black oblivion vodka had always brought, soothing the burn and everything else within her. The oblivion didn't come. Harsh, agonizing accusations rang in her head over and over, with no release or comforting darkness in sight. Finally, she lowered her head and began to cry.


End file.
